


Love and Its Desires

by aceofsparrows



Series: The Untamable Rilow Twins [2]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: DWSA au, F/M, M/M, i love it so much you hv no idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofsparrows/pseuds/aceofsparrows
Summary: Hanna and Hänschen have a chat about their romantic pursuits, and Hänschen makes a plan to woo Ernst.





	Love and Its Desires

**Author's Note:**

> A sibling dynamic I am loving for as I write it, feat. The Vineyard Scene as per DWSA, based shamelessly upon Josh Castille and Andy Mientus’ Ernst and Hänschen. :) 
> 
> Sorry for any errors, it is late and I have no beta (and no good excuses except that writing as a form of procrastination is wonderful).

“I think I’m in love,” Hänschen declared one afternoon, idly twirling his pencil. He and Hanna were in the back garden, Hänschen with his Latin and Hanna with the laundry. She beat a large, heavy rug firmly with the carpet beater, rolling her eyes. 

“Really, what a concept.” 

Hänschen gave her a glare, and Hanna simply smiled. He rolled his eyes, going back to his conjugations. “I’m serious this time. I think I am in love, and it is no laughing matter.” 

Hanna looked at her brother, stretched languidly on the grass. “Hänschen, I am almost entirely sure that is exactly what you said the last time.” Giving the rug one last decisive thwack, Hanna decided it had been properly beaten and hauled it off of the line, carrying it back into the rear foyer of the house. When she returned she sat herself rather ungracefully next to her brother on the grass, long legs folded beneath her.

“Well, who is it this time? Ilse Neumann? She’s rather exotic, but kind of flightly. Ana Whelan? You know Otto lusts after her, don’t you? Oo, don’t tell me it’s Martha Bessell; I’ve seen the way she looks at Moritz and I’m sorry to say it’s most likely a lost cause with that one, brother dearest.” 

Hänschen sighed, setting his pencil in the fold of his Latin book. “No, it’s not Ana or Martha or Ilse. It’s someone else. It’s-“ he leaned in close so only she could see him speak despite the fact that they were most certainly alone. “It’s Ernst Röbel.” 

Hanna raised her eyebrows, eyes widening in surprise and her mouth making a perfect little “o” shape as she stared at Hänschen. Then she smiled knowingly. “Oh.  Oh ... good  choice, Hansi. He’s certainly a pretty one, although not the brightest of the bunch.” 

“So you’re not surprised?” He asked, still slightly shocked her first response hadn’t been to jump up and declare him destined for Hell because of such sinful thoughts. 

Hanna merely laughed. “Of course not. I’ve seen it a long time coming; as if your obsession with Melchior Gabor’s effervescent hair and well-tailored lederhosen when we were eleven wasn’t indication enough.” At this Hänschen blushed fiercely, looking down at a suddenly fascinating stray piece of lint on his trouser leg. Hanna grinned. “No, darling brother, I am not surprised at all. If anything, I am surprised it took you this long to figure it out. It is very clear he likes you as well, and has for quite some time.” 

Hänschen frowned. “What do you mean? Ernst can’t possibly be... well... like  that. Like  me.” 

“I’ve seen the way he watches you in Sunday school, and the way he always makes sure to give you one of the good Bibles off of the top of the stack when he hands them out at services. He wants you Hänschen, even if he doesn’t know it yet. I doubt he’ll do anything about it though, knowing Ernst,” she mused, enjoying the contemplation. “He’s much too naïve and oblivious to the secret wonders of earthly passion, unlike you.” 

Hänschen contemplated this for a moment, tapping his pencil against the side of his book in thought. “Well, I suppose if you say so. I’ll have to watch him and find out. If he does, as you say, ‘want me’, then I’ll find a private moment to make my move.” 

“An excellent plan, in all respects,” Hanna concluded, nodding sagely. She toed off her shoes, lying back in the long grass, arms pillowed under her head as she stared up at the fluffy white clouds that dotted the bright blue sky. Hänschen set his books down on his other side, lying back as well so they were comfortably hip to hip. 

“So, any progress with Georg recently?” He asked, the Ernst problem now resolved for the time being. Hanna shook her head.

“No, nothing. He is unfortunately still obsessed with Fräulein Großebüstenhalter, although I continue to fail to understand what he sees in her besides her ample bosom. She’s not even that proficient of a piano teacher; Georg has mostly taught himself simply to impress her, and I certainly hadn’t learned anything much in the years I’d been taking lessons up until I began practicing to impress Georg.” She sighed. 

Hänschen chuckled. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, dear sister, but I think perhaps her bosom may be the  only reason Georg likes her. We are young boys, experiencing lust for the first time in our lives; the only way a man or woman can catch our attention, at least initially, is with their bodily attributes. Ernst, for example, has a magnificent ass.” He smirked, as if recalling a mental picture of Ernst for a moment for his own pleasure. Then he saw Hanna glaring at him and hurriedly continued. “The best course of action, perhaps, would be to lure him in with your best physicalities, and  then showcase your musical skills or literary tastes or whatever else you deem important once you’ve gotten his attention. After all, I’d say you’ve got the figure to do it.” He eyed her once over, albeit exaggeratedly, and nodded. Hanna narrowed her eyes at him, sitting up. 

“Hans Rilow, I can’t believe you would even  suggest such a thing! Encouraging  your own sister to seduce one of your classmates! The  horror ! You know very well what impression that would give Georg and you also know very well I would  not at all fancy following through with that impression!” Hänschen sat up, opening his mouth to protest, but was effectively silenced when Hanna slapped him soundly across the face. The boy cradled his face in his hand, glaring at his sister. 

“Hey! What was that for?!” 

“For being an insensitive twat, you git. This conversation isn’t over.” She stood, marching angrily back toward the house. She paused in the doorway however, turning to give her brother one last glare. “And if you even  think of applying such  grotesque principles to your wooing of Ernst and you hurt him, I will  personally murder you. Ernst is my  friend , and I will  not have you breaking his heart.” 

And with that she slammed the door behind her, leaving Hänschen alone in the sun-kissed grass, nursing his wounded cheek and contemplating his next move. 

*** * ***

It would be almost a year before Hänschen would act on his plan to seduce Ernst, though not for lack of trying with subtle hints (he was especially proud of his Achilles and Patroclus line, even if he’d never had the courage to actually say it to Ernst’s face. Melchior has laughed, so maybe that was a plus). So much would happen in that year; Wendla and Moritz,Melchior’s disappearance. And then, in that moment in the vineyard, when he saw Ernst and began his plan, he would remember his sister’s words.  Ernst is my friend, and I will not have you breaking his heart. Hänschen shook his head, clearing away Hanna’s scowling face. Too late to go growing a conscious now. 

Hänschen tapped on the low stone wall that ran along the south end of the vineyard, getting Ernst’s attention. “Those bells. So... peaceful.” He said, helping himself up, and Ernst nodded, looking for a moment at him and then away. 

“I know! Sometimes, when it’s quiet in the evening like this, I imagine myself as a country pastor.” Ernst was in profile for a moment, looking out at the beginnings of the early spring sunset, and Hänschen couldn’t help but stare. The yellow-orange light caught the lighter brown streaks in Ernst’s dark hair, lighting them on fire, and his eyes looked so big and full of wonder, his cheeks flushed with cold, glowing. Oh, the things Hänschen wanted to do to that golden boy. 

Unfortunately, he was still talking. “With my red-cheeked wife, my library, my degrees.... Boys and girls who live nearby give me their hands when I go walking....” 

Hänschen couldn’t help himself. “You can’t be serious,” he said to Ernst’s back. Ernst, of course, didn’t notice he’d spoken, so after a moment, Hänschen tapped his shoulder to get his attention. “Really, Ernst, you’re such a...” It took him a moment to find the right word. “... sentimentalist.” Ernst shook his head, beginning to protest, but Hänschen plowed on. “The pious, serene faces you see on the clergy? It’s all an act to hide their envy.” Ernst’s eyes widened to saucers. He looked down for a moment, clearly stunned. Hänschen smiled. “Trust me. There are only three ways a man can go.” Ernst held up his fingers, intrigued. “He can let the status quo defeat like Moritz,” (this was a speech Hänschen had practiced many times. He was most likely a little too proud of it) “he can rock the boat like Melchior and be expelled,” Ernst was distracted by ‘expelled’ and Hänschen had to get his attention again to finish his speech. “Or, he can bide his time and let the system work for him, like me.” 

Ernst started at his three fingers, obviously confused. Hänschen waved his hand in front of Ernst, garnering his attention once more. “Think of the future as...” this he had not rehearsed, and it took him a moment to think of what to say next. “... as a pail of whole milk. One man sweats and stirs, churning it into butter, like Otto, for example. Another man frets and spills his milk and cries all night like Georg,” Ernst laughed, and it took all of Hänschen’s will power not to swoon. Ernst had the cutest laugh he’d ever heard, and it made Hänschen’s heart hurt and his chest feel all funny to know he was the source of that sweet mirth. It spurred him on, wanting to finish the analogy. “But me? Well, I’m like a pussycat. I just skim off the cream.” He luxuriated in the last sign a little longer than was strictly necessary, but it was ever so fun to watch Ernst squirm, obviously excited by such a...compelling...metaphor. Ernst’s supporting hand slipped off the edge of the wall and he fell sideways slightly, righting himself quickly, obviously embarrassed. Hänschen merely smiled. 

The brunet frowned. “Skim off the cream?” 

Hänschen nodded. “Right.” 

“But what about the-“ Hänschen couldn’t help himself. He leaned back, chuckling at Ernst’s naïveté. “You’re laughing. Hänschen what?” Ernst looked truly distressed, so Hänschen did his best to sober up for the moment. 

“_C_ _ome, cream away the bliss. _

_ Travel the world within my lips. _

_ Fondle the pearl of your distant dream. _

_ Haven’t you heard the word of your body?  _

_ Oh, you’re gonna be wounded. _

_Oh, you’re gonna be my wound_.

_ Oh, you’re gonna bruise too. _

_Oh, you’re gonna be my bruise_. ”

Hänschen took a risk, carefully tracing the last sign in Ernst’s forehead. And then, before he could think twice about it he took Ernst’s face in his hands, pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. 

Sensing Ernst’s hesitation, he pulled away, hearing Hanna once again in his mind.  If you even think of applying such grotesque principles to your wooing of Ernst and you hurt him, I will personally murder you. 

“Oh god,” Ernst said, and Hänschen lay back on the wall. 

“Mmm, I know. When we look back, thirty years from now, tonight will seem unbelievably beautiful.” This was it, Hänschen was sure. He had miscalculated, and one lukewarm kiss was all he would ever get. His heart broke just a little more than he wanted it to. He turned to go, wanting to get away from this mess as quickly as possible. 

But Ernst stopped him, pulling Hänschen back towards him. “And in the meantime?”

A spark lit up in Hänschen’s dying heart. “Why not?” He leaned in slowly, kissing Ernst again, this time with more hesitancy and tenderness. He felt Ernst’s hands flutter at his neck, and then make their way down his chest. Sensing no immediate distress, Hänschen pulled back a bit to bring his hands up to cup Ernst’s face, leaning into this kiss once more. He started to grasp at Ernst’s tie, to pull him closer, to keep them forever locked in this intoxicating embrace, but the other boy pulled away.  Damn it , had Hänschen done some wrong again, misjudged something else, gotten his signals jumbled-?

“On my way here this afternoon I thought perhaps we’d only... talk,” Ernst said almost in disbelief, and Hänschen frowned. He turned away, preparing to leave once again. He knew where he stood now.

“So are you sorry we-?” 

“No!” Ernst caught his arm. The sincerity in his eyes was heartbreaking, and it would have shattered Hänschen’s, had it not already been in pieces from earlier. “I love you, Hänschen, as I have never loved anyone.” 

Hänschen’s eyes widened very slightly at that.  Fuck . He hadn’t planned for that, hadn’t planned for  love . Unfortunately, at the mention of that cursed word the scattered shards of the poor organ he once called a heart melted, and it was as if his limbs had been lit on fire. 

And he wanted to say it, he really did, because it was true. He wanted to tell Ernst he loved him back, because he did. 

But instead he said the first thing that popped into the part of his brain that was panicking. “And so you should.”  And so you should ?! What kind of idiotic response was that?!

Unsure how to take it, Ernst turned away from Hänschen, signing almost curiously. 

“ _Oh, I’m gonna be wounded.  _

_Oh, I’m gonna be your wound_. ”

Hänschen wrapped his arm around Ernst’s slighter frame, taking his thin hand in his own larger one, signing with him, assuring him with touch what he could not with words. 

“_Oh, I’m gonna bruise you._ ” They traced Ernst’s forehead, and the brunet sighed. “_Oh, you’re gonna be my bruise.”_ This time it was Ernst who put his hand on Hänschen’s chest, tracing his finger across Hänschen’s forehead as they sat almost nose-to-nose. Hänschen pulled Ernst’s hand away, lacing their fingers together and closing the gap in a sweet kiss. 

It was heaven, more-so than the last two tentative, fleeting kisses. This time it wasn’t just Hänschen kissing Ernst (although Hänschen was definitely leading), it was  Ernst and Hänschen kissing . And that made all the difference.

When the sun finally slipped below the horizon and dipped them into darkness Ernst and Hänschen slipped off the wall, hands intertwined, and wandered down the secluded path back to the village, content in their newfound amour. They parted ways with a chaste kiss and a promise to meet again soon when the weather was warmer, and went their separate ways home. 

Hanna was waiting up for him when Hänschen slipped in through their bedroom window, plucking a stray leaf from his golden hair. 

“So? Where were you? Spill,” she demanded. Hänschen couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he changed quickly into his nightgown and crawled into bed next to her. 

“The vineyard. It was wonderful.” He said, lying on his side facing Hanna. She blew out the candle and lay down as well so they were nose to nose in the darkness. 

“Really? What happened? Did he meet you like you asked him to?” Hänschen nodded and Hanna grinned. Then he recounted what had happened during that magnificent sunset, every last detail.

Hanna loved hearing his deepest feelings; they had always told each other everything and been brutally honest with each other, even as children. They had also shared a room their whole lives; not that anyone besides their parents knew. Despite being one of the richest families in town, their parents had only planned for one child and were not prone to lavish indulgence, so when two babies came instead of one they had simply decided the two would grow up as equals. Therefore, even as they grew older, Hänschen and Hanna had shared a room and a bed, not feeling in the slightest bit uncomfortable for they already knew every detail of each other, inside and out, and there was nothing to hide or of which to be ashamed.

It was a true luxury to have someone in their lives who they could be themselves with, someone who was always there no matter what. And despite the fact that the world expected different things of each of them— Hänschen was to be a lawyer or a business owner or a politician, despite the fact that he would rather move somewhere remote and read Greek classics and love beautiful men and women for the rest of his days, and Hanna was being groomed against her will for marriage and motherhood, destined for a life of gilded captivity — they spent their secret afternoons and evenings raging their quiet rebellions and coming into their own. 

When conversation died away, Hanna and Hänschen fell into their own thoughts, each turning to the events of the day. Hänschen to his blooming romance, and Hanna to the new concerto she was learning on the piano in hopes Georg would hear her practicing at church and talk to her. They both fell asleep with the knowledge that tomorrow would dawn bright with promise, and that, for now, was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Lowkey so excited for this series y’all... it’s a fun little side project that I write to de-stress and I love it so much :)
> 
> Have a great weekend everyone!  
-Sparrow


End file.
